


Artificial

by cherucat



Category: Sonic the Hedgehog (Archie Comic), Sonic the Hedgehog - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-08-19
Updated: 2016-08-19
Packaged: 2018-08-09 17:51:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7811494
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cherucat/pseuds/cherucat
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An encounter with Phage leaves Nicole doubting herself. (Sallicole)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Artificial

Nicole found it difficult to describe the digital world to her organic friends. There was no climate, no air, very little physical sensation to process. When she first entered the physical world (the “real” world as some called it, though she resented that term), she was overwhelmed by how much there was to _feel_. She had mapped out an artificial nervous system for herself ages ago, but it never had much use as she sat in Sally’s handheld. The cool night air, when they first sat under the stars together, startled her.

Now, as she gazed in fear at Phage’s form towering over her, she realized how much she preferred that world.

“Intriguing,” Phage clicked in monotone as she twisted around Nicole like a snake. Although Nicole could interpret her visually, Phage didn’t have a physical form like herself. Her appearance was a very basic expression of code, a way for Nicole’s processes to make sense of what was happening. Her trailing black cloak was flat, without dimension, like a tear in space. She flinched as Phage’s system easily accessed her data centers, picking through file after file, memory after memory.

“Your code structure is quite similar to an organic’s,” Phage spoke tonelessly, and the sound seemed to come from inside Nicole’s own head. “It’s no wonder you choose to imitate them.”

Nicole’s mouth opened and closed. She was frozen all of the sudden—her firewalls had not worked, her attempted quarantine had not worked. She could do nothing as Phage scanned through her data entries at her own leisure.

“Programmed emotional responses as well. How endearing. How _charming_.”

She continued, and then lingered on a particular file.

“This one is quite active. Accessed over and over again. It seems you’re accessing it currently, in fact.” She tutted as Nicole’s system hurried to attempt safeguarding the file. “Sally Acorn. I’ve seen the name. Quite a lot written about this one in Eggman’s database.”

“Don’t,” Nicole whispered, though she had no idea why she did. Did she think Phage was going to listen?

“Fascinating, quite fascinating. Your extrapolations… there are things you _wish_ for with this Sally Acorn, are there not?”

Half of Nicole’s processes screamed, urging her to _do something_ , but the other half had clammed up. She didn’t want to think about this, didn’t want to face this _now_ of all times.

“I do hope,” Phage began as her form constricted tighter around Nicole. “That those ‘feelings’ of yours dissipate after I’ve absorbed you. They’d be rather… troublesome to deal with.”

Nicole squeezed her eyes shut. Why couldn’t she move, why couldn’t she—

“ _NICOLE!_ ”

Nicole’s eyes flew open to see her—wristblade drawn, stance wide, expression fierce and fiery.

“Let go of her. _Now._ ”

Sally had come for her.

* * *

 

“Nicole?”

The gentle tone roused Nicole from her memories. She became aware of Sally’s face looming over her, bangs swept out of her eyes, brow just slightly furrowed in concern.

“My apologies, Princess. Did you need something?”

Sally rested her hand on her cheek and brushed her thumb over the buttons on Nicole’s handheld. “No, no. I was just wondering if you… wanted to come out of there?”

There was a pause. “I’m fine in here. It’s better to conserve my energy, anyway.”

Sally bit her lip. “Are you OK? You haven’t come out since…”

Since Phage. Nicole knew what Sally was getting at; she hadn’t wanted to leave her handheld since the encounter with the virus. But it wasn’t because of a fear of Phage herself, who most likely would not be seen again, at least not for quite some time. No, something else inside Nicole had been disrupted. Something at her very core.

“I’m sorry,” Sally sighed, interrupting Nicole as she was trying to formulate a response. “I don’t want to pressure you. But when you’re ready, I’ll be here, alright?”

Nicole felt a sudden weight crushing her. She supposed it was guilt. “Wait.”

Sally blinked. “What’s up?”

“I’ll… I’ll come out. Just for a little bit.”

Sally’s face brightened. “Oh, great!” She scrambled to sit up on her bed and placed the handheld down in front of her, giving Nicole some space to form herself.

It has been quite a while since she had last entered the physical world. Three weeks, to be exact. She felt a bit of nervousness in the pit of her metaphorical stomach, bracing herself for all the stimuli she was about to encounter. For a moment, she second-guessed her decision, but the flickering thought of Sally’s disappointed face urged her on.

Nicole took a deep breath—purely habitual, since she didn’t need to breathe—and engaged the materialization process.

Energy from the ring in her handheld began to glow and vibrate, lines of code manifesting themselves physically, bit by bit. She wasn’t quite sure how rings did this; it was almost like magic. Not that Nicole believed in magic.

Nicole felt the heaviness of existence settle upon her and she opened her eyes. She flexed her newly formed fingers, feeling the cotton of the blankets she sat on. They were in Sally’s room, aboard the Sky Patrol. It was small, nondescript, as Sally wasn’t one for sentimentality and she disliked having a cluttered living space. The lights were dim—Nicole figured Sally had been about to get some sleep before deciding to talk to her. The ring energy radiating off of Nicole painted the surroundings in a faint green glow.

“Hey,” Sally spoke beside her. Now that she was out of her handheld, Nicole could see her much more clearly. She was smiling wide, the corners of her eyes crinkled. Her bangs had fallen in front of her eyes again, and she blew a puff of air to move them out of the way. She was in pajamas: a black tank top and shorts. Nicole liked looking at her.

“Hello,” Nicole replied, her voice suddenly sounding very small.

“It’s been a while, huh?” Sally’s tone and posture were relaxed—a stark contrast to how she looked when she was on a mission with the Freedom Fighters.

Nicole twiddled her thumbs. “I suppose.”

Sally’s smile faltered a bit and she scooted closer to Nicole. “You know you can tell me if something’s bothering you, right?”

Nicole sighed. “Yes. I know.” That was part of the problem.

Sally’s furrowed brow returned, and Nicole felt a pang of regret for being the one to place it there. Sally put her hand on Nicole’s, gently. It was warm and slightly calloused, betraying a life full of past hardships. Nicole looked at the roughness and _realness_ of Sally’s hands, her fur, in comparison to Nicole’s all too sleek and clean form. Sally was full of heart. Nicole was artificial.

“I’m sorry,” Nicole blurted, attempting to keep all emotion out of her voice. “I should go back.”

“Huh? But you just got here—”

“It’s not right for me to be out so much. It’s inappropriate.”

Sally looked taken aback. “Nicole, what are you talking about? You’re not making sense.”

“It’s alright,” Nicole kept her voice level. “I don’t expect you to understand.”

“What does—hey, wait!” Sally grabbed the handheld out of Nicole’s grasp before she could initiate dematerialization. “Just wait, okay? What’s going on? Have I done something? You have to talk to me or I can’t help.”

Nicole trembled in silence, and Sally’s grip on her arm loosened.

“Sally,” she whispered. “I’m not supposed to be like this. I’m a computer, not an organic. I’m not supposed to…” _I’m not supposed to feel the way I do around you._ The realization she had been avoiding for so long squeezed her heart in the most painful way.

“Says who?” Sally countered, eyes blazing. Whenever her eyes looked like that, Nicole’s stomach did flips. “Me, all of the Freedom Fighters—we all see you as part of the team. There’s nothing less about you because you were made differently.”

“It’s not real,” Nicole’s voice began to quiver. “ _I’m_ not real, I can never be like all of you, I’m tired of fooling myself into thinking that I can, I’m tired of wanting to… wanting to…” She glanced at Sally’s expression, full of concern, and felt traitorous tears welling up in her eyes. She mentally cursed her own programming for including something as useless as crying.

Sally’s hand gently touched Nicole’s cheek, brushing a tear away. “Oh, Nicole…”

Nicole felt Sally’s arms wrap around her and hold her tightly, stroking her hair and behind her ears. Nicole could hear her heartbeat, her breathing, both strong and steady. The sound of organic life.

“You’re just as real as anybody else,” Sally assured. “You’re one of the most real things in the world to me.”

Nicole looked up at Sally’s face, so close to her own, and felt a surge of emotion that grounded her. Just for a moment she wanted to forget.

“I’m sorry in advance,” Nicole said, voice shaky. “I don’t quite know how to do this.”

She closed her eyes, and before Sally could respond, she pressed their lips together.

She meant it as a quick peck, but was surprised when Sally immediately leaned into the kiss, pulling her closer. She was heavy and passionate, as if desperate to communicate something. It made Nicole’s head spin, she felt her systems overheating—

“Woah!” Sally fell back as Nicole’s form began to glitch and distort, chunks of data blinking in and out of existence, textures failing and exposing hidden polygons.

“Oh, no!” Nicole’s voice came out tinny and garbled through the distortion. “I’m so sorry, I—my systems—I’m sure it’ll pass soon—”

Sally covered her mouth, hiding a laugh. “Don’t worry about it. Sorry for, um, overdoing it.” She gave an embarrassed smile. “Was that… what was bothering you?”

Nicole hesitated before nodding, and was briefly thankful for the technical error that was hopefully obscuring her deeply reddening face. “Have you felt the same…?”

Sally glanced away, looking even more embarrassed. It wasn’t an expression she typically wore. “I… I guess I have.” She looked back at Nicole and grinned sheepishly.

Nicole’s breath hitched in her chest, before her systems failed altogether.

“Wh—Nicole?!” There was a _blip_ as Nicole’s physical form dissipated. “Where’d you go?!”

A few seconds passed with agonizing slowness.

“I’m here!” A small, muffled voice came from the handheld beside her. “It… looks like I exhausted my ring energy…”

Sally breathed a sigh of relief. “Sheesh. I’m glad you’re OK.” She grabbed the handheld and peered into the small screen. Nicole’s avatar was there, tiny and pixelated. Even so, Sally could see the blush on her cheeks. It was cute. “Just take some time and recharge yourself, alright?”

“You should do the same.”

“Ah, right.” Sally pulled up her blankets and cozied under them, still holding the handheld. Nicole felt a giddiness bubbling up inside her, and she wished her physical form hadn’t failed her in that moment.

“Good night, Nicole,” Sally spoke softly, then paused, seeming to contemplate something. Then she kissed the screen that was the barrier between them.

Nicole swore she almost felt it.


End file.
